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  • #3591

    In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Mother Shirley was about to ferociously complain about the lack of consideration and utmost rubbish of a service, when she felt suddenly possessed by a will much stronger than her own.
      Relax, old cow, and go with the flow

      That was most unusual, and it rhymed (surprisingly). Maybe it was blessed Mother Virgin who finally chose to speak through her faithful and humble servant.

      All she could hear was a blissful laugh that seemed infectious.

      She glanced at the group that was massing around the shuttle after adjusting their breathing apparatus. A young woman caught her eye. She was one of the scandalous raffle’s winner. Mother Shirley was about to start an inner rant, when the voice resounded again in her head.

      You should take good care of this one, Shir. The voice was commandeering.

      #3579
      F LoveF Love
      Participant

        Finnley looked up guiltily from the Lemololol novel she was surreptitiously reading under the table. In an effort to give the impression she had been listening, Finnley read the first line her eyes fell on.

        “You know Elizabeth, I always say you need a good smoking pile of manure to grow bigger cucumbers.”

        Elizabeth gasped in admiration. “You are so wise, Finnley. We may have had our differences in the past — I have such strong inner values — and I may call you odd behind your back, but manure and cucumbers, that is just brilliant! That sums it up precisely. Let me make you another cup of tea.”

        #3573

        In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Commercial Spaceline MX757#33, Mars orbit

          Finnley, the board computer of the mothership had started to wake up the suspended animated bodies in preparation for the landing as per its usual instructions.
          The craft had arrived in vicinity of the planet just a day ago (counted in SET, or Standard Earth Time), and was in stationary orbit over the main settlement and de facto capital of Mars.
          Smaller pods would be flown from there to land the various cargo and the travelling guests, as soon as they would have had time to acclimate.

          Everyone was becoming quite excited, and hungry as well, once the initial shock was passed. Finnley’s synthetic voice was as smooth and silky as the modelled butt of her twenty one robotic bodies.

          All of her guests were accounted for. A large number of them were sent by a rich Covenant of Holy Elietics, which hoped to enlighten the natives.
          A second group was sent by a mining corporation for prospecting purposes.
          Finally, travelling in the economy section were a pair of winners from a worldwide raffle that sent people to a promised new life. It was believed to be largely a scam, but the one-trip tickets were valid. That was the only thing that was provided to the winners, the rest was up to them.

          Finnley had been craftily programmed to display a wide range of human emotions, although she didn’t really feel them as human did. If that were the case, she would have logged in her journal her feeling to be in a great hurry to get rid of all the now terribly noisy humanity in her ship.

          #3572

          In reply to: The Hosts of Mars

          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            It had been two months since the aurora. They had started to refer to it as the Cloud Aurora, since after it, rocks had started to leak moisture in all manner of places.
            Long, thin clouds had begun to appear just a month after, and the atmosphere composition seemed to alter itself as well, irrevocably.

            Everyone was busy doing analysis, sending reports to Earth and extrapolating on data. But John was more interested in running more explorations and extending the area of his scouting.

            Tonight, a new commercial ship from Earth would arrive. Mostly rich tourists bored with Spain or Italy, but a bit of fresh blood too, most likely winners of a stupid settler raffle. It had taken them years to arrive; it was hard for John to imagine being crammed in suspension, floating through endless void and cold space for so long.

            But then, he himself was quite excited being here to monitor the inexorable changes set in motion on the red planet.

            #3554
            matermater
            Participant

              “Good Lord, what’s all the fuss?” I asked, walking into the kitchen. “You all look like you have seen a ghost.”

              Exhausted by my busy day, I had come home and gone straight to bed. I had slept through dinner and had come downstairs thinking to fix myself a wee snack and a cup of hot chocolate.

              And walked crash bang into some sort of a drama going on.

              Another one!

              #3527
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                “Just wait a minute for Mater to join us, kids. The dinner will wait a bit longer,” Aunt Idle said, while scraping the bottom of the pan, filling the kitchen with the smell of blackened burnt stew.
                “But she’s late again, and we’re hungry now!” I said, and Clove chipped in “It’s fucking almost ruined now anyway.”
                “Hey! less of that rude language, Clove,” Aunt Idle said, so I asked her why a word is ruder than being late. “Yeah, and why is barging in to her room ruder than being late?” my sister added. “Why haven’t you taught the old bag some manners, Aunt Idle?”
                Clove, really!”
                “What old bag?” asked Mater, crashing open the door with her stick.
                “You” replied Prune, “They’re calling you a rude old bag. OUCH! Clove just kicked me!”
                Aunt Idle, Mater didn’t say sorry for being late, isn’t that rude?”
                “Only when you do it, now shut up and eat.”

                #114
                prUneprUne
                Participant

                  I never could stand the sight of it. For as long as I remember, which is no more than 6 years, admittedly, the odd-looking fish had been preserved and placed above the fake stucco fireplace. It’s been here for much longer, though. You can tell by the thickness of the dust covering it. My friend Bert, that old chap, told me so.
                  He has told me many other stories about the town, about my family, and their glorious past. It could just have been no more than stories, but I believe him —for no reason, really. Maybe only because my sisters find him slightly creepy and old. Anyway, I like him.

                  In his stories, the fish had fallen many years ago from the sky. There had been rain this summer day, which was, in itself, even less believable than some oddly shaped flying fish falling from the sky. And that fish had fallen in front of what was the private mansion of the Curara family. Our ancestor found it, and decided to take it as a sign of the Almighty that they would be blessed with abundance forever after… But then, everything went downside with fantastic speed. The gold rush stopped in its tracks, the town slowly got deserted, and since then, our family started to believe that it was more a curse than a blessing. However, nobody ever bothered to get rid of the fish that once flew.

                  Maybe they were waiting for another one to appear to break the string of unfortunate events. I always think of all the amusing ways I could get rid of it without anybody noticing. April’s fools wouldn’t do… Too easy. But having it served at dinner would be a start. Sadly, with Aunt Idle’s poor cooking skills, there was no chance a fish could come unnoticed.

                  So it was on that particular day when I’d found and written down on my secret diary a 222nd way of getting rid of the fish, it was on that particular and fateful day, that everything changed again for the Curara family.

                  #3494

                  The answer came to Sadie very easily. “Easy. The invisibility just wears off”.

                  Before Sadie left to prepare dinner at her place, where she’d invited the three queens, she had told them simply “I bet you didn’t bother to check that this Anna Purrna of yours is actually sent by the network management. I’d suggest you do.”

                  :fleuron:

                  When the Queens arrived ready to bust Anna out of the Bar, she’d already disappeared with all her stuff, like an evil Mary Popout. Why hadn’t they thought of checking her credentials in the first place, so taken by her semblance of authority.

                  “Let’s get ready for the dinner, it’s time to get some proper attire and get pampered.”
                  All three of them agreed heartily.

                  :fleuron:

                  Linda Pol was about to come to hands with Anna Purrna, when both their e-zapper buzzed at the same time. They looked at each other in defiance, then both devices buzzed again.
                  They checked their messages. The first one read: Let her go. The Management

                  Second one read: Leave the place. Your reward awaits at the drop-off point. The Management

                  :fleuron:

                  When Anna Purrna arrived at the drop-off, she opened her box to find some sort of beauty cream packaged neatly. It smelled musky and sweet, eartly and seaweedy at the same time and got her confused so she read the instruction:

                  Courtesy of the Management: *Regruwenator Cream®™* Apply liberally.

                  :fleuron:

                  Linda Pol was perplexed at the reward. An open round-trip ticket to Wherever. A vacation, without a catch this time?…

                  #3476

                  The layer of clouds that had been covering Abalone for so many years had cleared up in no time. So much had changed since they went through the labyrinth of time in the old temple three weeks ago. Karmalott and Gazalbion were no more. The giant beanstalk had simply disintegrated after the mass beliefs that kept it standing were reconfigured, and Karmalott had fallen on its land counterpart. It was hard to tell one from the other when they first came back to the place.

                  Gwinnie looked at the giant storks nesting on the cliffs of the sea of beliefs. Her heart bloomed, she felt appreciation and gratitude over Abalone’s Nature. She had spent so many years in the bog that it had infused her with the wisdom of the island. She had been able to go unharmed through the corridors of time, because she simply knew whenre to go.

                  As soon as they entered the Lion mouthed door, she had taken George’s hand and whispered : follow me and you’ll be safe. That man was so trusting in life and he had such a pure heart that he did as she said. He’d told her afterward that despite all the images and illusions, his mind was focused on the green light in his heart.

                  When they arrived in the central room of the pyramid, she had changed. Her skin was still green, but she had found in the corridors the years she had lost in the bog.

                  They had decided to stay and make a fresh start. The former King of Karmalott was now helping with the reconstruction of the entire island. With his natural leader talent, he’d been creating pooling teams of magi and non-magi for different tasks : clearing the ground of the fallen cities, regrouping the lost souls, soothing the injured and building the new transitional Spas. With Gwinnie’s innate knowledge of Abalone and his innate trust, they could do marvels at bending beliefs and reality.

                  Actually, the transitional spa was Rene and Fanella’s idea. The two of them had been very helpful, especially since Gwinnie had repaired the sphinx. He was created to guard the temple and warn people who wanted to enter the labyrinth of time with an enigma. The corridors of time were not for the faint of heart, but to help people contact their inner knowledge to grow past their fears and blockages. What his creators had not foreseen was their own departure of the island. Rene was attached to the temple and left behind as they took no material possessions with them.

                  His flaw was that he needed people, and as no one was coming anymore, with time he became obsessed with the idea of making new friends. Forgetting his other duties and his connection to the timeline of Abalone, his obsession leaked and the island was thrust through time and space, intersecting with earth reality at specific dates and places. It was becoming more and more difficult to control it and the bogs anomalies were becoming harder to contain.

                  Fanella simply recognized Rene as the tall ebony man in her vision. She told them the yellow man, that had saved her from drowning, had disappeared quickly as soon as they entered the labyrinth, but the hook-legged man had seized her and they were caught in the most horrid nightmares. She was saved because his hook got stuck in a tiger slug pit. Rene swore he had nothing to do with it, although it was clear he had a soft spot for the young maid.

                  A week after they got out of the labyrinth, the girl had come to Gwinnie in the Garden of El Refugio. The green woman was helping with the introduction of new species of plants to Abalone’s circle of life.
                  “What is this plant ? “, asked Fanella.
                  “It is an okra. I’ve found it in the memories of one of the recently disengaged person from Earth.”
                  “The fruit has such an unusual shape.”
                  The silence that followed lasted for a few minutes. Gwinnie was focused on establishing a fulfilling symbiotic relationship between the plant and the island ecosystem, transforming one to acclimate the other and vice versa.
                  “How are your friends ?” asked the green woman.
                  “My friends ? Oh! They are good. Enjoying the spa and the new attractions.”
                  It was clear the young person had something in mind. Her loving glances to the sphinx during the last week had made it clear to everyone. The girl finally blurted it out.
                  “You know, Rene,” Fanella blushed as she said the name, “with the recent arrivals of transitioners, he’s got a lot of work for just one sphinx.”
                  “Oh! I’m sure he’s going to be just fine with that.”
                  “Yes, but, you know he’s been alone for such a long time.”
                  “Yes, Fanella?” Gwinnie stopped to look at the girl. She seemed frail, but she had this inner strength that helped her cross time and space before she ever came to Abalone.
                  “I want you to make me a sphinx so that I can be with Rene.” She said that without blushing, but pink colored her cheeks at the mention of the name.
                  If Gwinnie ever had a doubt of being in transition, it was dissipated. Her surprise almost broke the delicate connection of the okra with the island.
                  Becoming a sphinx wasn’t a trivial request. They still had to discuss about it, of course, and when it was obvious it wasn’t just a passing fancy, Fanella was granted her wish.
                  As a sphinx-wedding gift, George gave her his wings.
                  “They are robust and will serve you well”, he told her.

                  #3472

                  Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of white knuckle hair raising maniac mandarin maneuvers with no respite, not for even a second, the Lazuli duck landed on the beach at the innermost coastline of the Bay and shapeshifted back into his usual human form. As soon as Lisa could straighten out her fingers, seized into a gripping feathers position, she punched Lazuli right in the middle of his joined up long black eyebrow. Then she howled in pain as her tense knuckles met the hard bone of his forehead.
                  “You fucking asshole! You jackass show off useless twat!”
                  Lazuli looked mildly surprised and asked, “That wasn’t fun?”
                  “Flun!! Flinking flool, flu flipped Flanella floff, and flow flea flost fleur!” Lisa was distraught, and with the additional feelings of outrage (feelings are meant to be fleeting, but this one was sticking around) at Lazuli’s reaction, was having difficulty forming words. “I flope flu flan flive with florself, flu fuckflit!!”
                  In exasperation Lisa howled, beating her fists upon Lazuli’s chest, then she collapsed to her knees, weeping.
                  The intensity of emotion she was projecting attracted Mirabelle and Igor, who made a spontaneous maneuver mid teleport which landed them on the sand beside Lisa.
                  Mirabelle retched violently upon landing, while Igor stumbled in haste to evacuate his bowels behind a mangrove tree, both of them giddy and sickened by the abrupt change in direction and the gut wrenching intensity of the situation.
                  The unexpected arrivals arrested Lisa’s sobbing mid flow. “Fliraflelle!” she exclaimed, and then added in increasing agitation, “ Oh, for flucks flake! Fly fan’t I fleak flopperly!”
                  “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up for five minutes until you’ve calmed down, LisaSanso suggested calmly.
                  Lisa took a deep breath and let it out with a full body shudder. “Oh Flanso…”

                  “Shhhhh,” he replied gently, “Shhhhh.”

                  #3453

                  The mirage was no longer a fleeting evasive picture.
                  They could see the pyramid’s top quite clearly, drawing them to its spot. By the robot’s estimation, they should already have reached it two days ago.
                  But it stood there, unmovable, and somehow still out of reach, an always moving horizon line.

                  “May I suggest a drumming session?” Jeremy asked around the campfire.
                  Arona raised her head silently but intrigued. The rude cat jumped on a flat stone and questioned him “What do you know about drumming, young boy?”
                  “Well, obviously that place is protected from intrusion, and we have to find the key to its entrance. I found drumming can help align our intents and give us inner clarity. Maybe one of us will find clues.”

                  It took them some time to discuss about technicalities, assemble a drum with a piece of Arona’s cape, and silence out their chatters, but after an unmeasurable and undetermined amount of time, they were all drawn into a pridanic journey to the rainbow world.

                  When they came out of the trance, Jeremy looked at them, amazed and excited by what he had seen.

                  First, they had travelled, guided by a herd of unicorns, to the heights of Karmalott, only to find it deserted, with faceless spirits leaving it.
                  When they shared their accounts, it seemed they all had seen in some form, the old City descending, with the wilting beanstalk bearing its weight with increasing difficulty. A flight of storks guided many to a safe place, and they’d seen most people would be fine.

                  It was then that they saw the P’hope mounted on a creature flying awkwardly like a bat, descending towards the pyramid. Greenie recognized him and with him painful feelings of betrayal came back. George as well remembered old secrets, and why he was the King, and how his departure had precipitated Karmalott’s fate.
                  As for Irina, riding on a spirit zebra, she’d found that people from her past were after her and her dear Mr R, and had followed her on the island. Using the teleporting boxes of the temple could send her to a safe place. Maybe on one of Mars’ posts.
                  Arona realized, there was little hope she could claim her bounty, as there was no longer a City to bring Greenie back to. But then, a spirit tortoise showed her the Cup she was promised was lying deep in the underground clear lakes under the temple.

                  Jeremy was quick to point it out. “That’s it! The entrance is from below, we have to follow the underground currents.”

                  #3443

                  “I found it!” shouted Pseu. “This is the tile I’ve been looking for! The Golden Portal Tile, what a miracle that this wasn’t destroyed!”
                  “Well thank fuck for that” replied Lisa, wiping the sweat off her brow. “Can we go now? How far is it to the old temple and how are we going to get there?”
                  Pseu clasped the tile to her chest. Beaming with pleasure, she ignored Lisa’s question.
                  “If I might offer a suggestion,” said Lazuli Galore, “The overland route is a minefield of dangers, what with the current situation with the beanstalk and the bog. It would make more sense to head south immediately to the coast, and travel by sea into the heart of the Bay of Beliefs. Once we reach the extreme innermost coast of the Bay, it’s just a short journey to the Old Temple.”
                  “Good idea!” said Sanso, affectionately slapping Lazuli on the ass.

                  #3427
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    After the push-ups, Anna Purrna returned to her office, letting the Queens panting and sweating, certainly wondering how long it would last.

                    The dwarf had requisitioned the best room and decorated it with pink and blue kitten plates on the wall left of his desk. The desk was positioned so that he would see anyone entering the room. It was something he had learned from Feng Shui, the position of power was when you faced the door and had no window behind. It was important no one could sneak up on you.

                    Anna Purrna loved pink and blue, and she loved kittens. They were loving you unconditionally and were not as dependent upon you as dogs. And they pooped in their own personal toilets. She put her cane near a decorated hammer and sat at her desk. She sighed.

                    Dependence was exhausting. She had fought all her life not to be dependent, especially when she realized that, contrary to the other kids, she couldn’t say when I grow up. She would never grow up, and those arrogant kids in the playground would make sure she knew it morally and physically. She wasn’t all that crooked before.
                    Now, she was driving a Harley.

                    She took her e-zapper and wrote : “ZR nut reddy 2 face O’Thor ET yeast”.

                    Writing in code was a habit she had taken when participating in RPGs. She knew it was an attempt to conceal her own expression. But it felt soothing at the time. It also helped her get better characters than dwarves and goblins. They wouldn’t even let her have an orc, saying she was too small for that. With time and perseverance she became an Adept with great powers and cunning intelligence. She was respected and feared. Which led her to work for the Management.

                    Her instructions were clear. Make them stand for themselves. At least that’s how she interpreted it. She had carte blanche for the means.

                    From what she had seen until now, Terry was the most promising of the three, but he was still following his mates. Maurana was too attached to the rules and seemliness, and Consuela was far too dependent on her mother. Anna could just provide the environment, they had to find their inner strength on their own and not forget the group.

                    The e-zapper purred, she had reconfigured it so that it would have a cat personality. It reminded her of her Riga, her previous ginger cat. She died a few years ago and Anna couldn’t resolve herself to get another one. She couldn’t replace her Riga in her heart.

                    The message read : “Begin phase two ASAP. Meow”.

                    #3417
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      “Why haven’t these windows been cleaned?” snapped the bossy dwarf. “And these mirrors? The mirrors are disgusting, and I can smell unwashed hair everywhere.”
                      “I’m not surprised, with all this housework, we haven’t had time to wash our hair, what do you expect?” retorted Consuela, almost at the end of her tether with the demanding interloper.
                      Anna Purrna glared at her. “How dare you speak to me like that!”
                      Consuela glared back. “Just what gives you the right to come here and start bossing us all around anyway? Where have you come from, who sent you?” Conseula was starting to warm up for a heated exchange. “What gives you the authority to boss us around?”
                      “I am” replied the monstrous diminutive gargoyle, “Your inner dictator, made physical. For your own benefit.”
                      Consuela was at a loss for words.

                      #3366

                      “I’m rubbish at meditation!” Irina said, opening her eyes after her tenth session in a row.

                      Mr R, who’d been waiting for her to come back from her inner trip, was, as usual, quick to dispense soothing encouragements
                      “Madam doesn’t give herself enough credit. After all, you have managed to… shall I say… appear this quaint bird.”

                      What? Irina looked at the direction Mr R was pointing at. That darn parrot again?!
                      Indeed, looking quite puzzled to be on one of the bog’s shrubs, Huhu was tilting, or rather bobbing his heard from left to right in a pendulous and rhythmical fashion, while Greenie was jumping around the shrub eager to catch the colourful beast.

                      “Then, that only confirms my suspicions…” she said. She had briefly connected to the bird, just about when she was processing the bleedthrough shotgun attack to bring her thoughts back to clarity. You wish… Sometimes the minds works in endless mysteries; she couldn’t tell why the bird came up in her thoughts, but it was apparently all it needed to appear there.

                      #3357

                      When Irina, with Mr R and Greenie in tow, approached the spot where the robot had detected activity, she had a lurching sense in her stomach that something strange was about to happen.

                      Some buzzing seemed to approach and leave, like a wobbling effect in the air around them, although she could see nothing.
                      Mr R, with its caterpillar boots seemed to have to trouble moving ahead, but with a silent sign of her hand, had him slow the pace down and move more silently.

                      A cracking sound, and she turned around.
                      A woman with a shotgun pointed at her was there, and a guy with handsome features. Caught unaware, Irina froze, and closed her eyes, trying to reach some inner peace before the imminent gunshot.

                      “Madam? Are you alright?” came Mr R’s soothing voice. Next to her, Greenie was drawing on her pants, with a concerned look on her face.

                      She opened her eyes, confused and relieved. The odd couple of hunters seemed to have vanished. Yet, she could have sworn hearing a gunshot and the blood of a giant mosquito splatter all around.
                      She could as well have dreamt all awake, as there were not a single trace around to back her vision.

                      “That’s what it is then…” Irina started to realize something. “Mr R, if you will, what about those presence you detected earlier?”
                      “Gone Madam, it seemed to have been a glitch.”
                      “A glitch, yes…” she said pensively. “Or something else…”

                      The things she’d just experience reminded Irina about some of the things she’d read in the past about the Bardo state of the Buddhists. She wasn’t a Buddhist, more a Realist ascendant Romantic. Yet, they made some interesting points about the nature of reality.
                      Usually, Irina was the kind of girl who liked to work up to her goals’ achievements. Building the little place for herself, even if mostly the work of Mr R, was a good example. Give her enough time, and she would always find resources to make a better life for herself. But here, it seemed beside the point. It could well be an endless loop.

                      She wanted to pierce the veil that surrounded the place, instead of erring in the fog of her own projections. She looked at Greenie and Mr R. She wasn’t sure they were real any longer, even if she had sure grown fond of them. She would see…

                      Now, how to get this island to reveal its secrets… As much as she found it boring, prayer or meditation seemed to be the only solution she could come up with for now. Less fond of the first solution, she chose the second and sat cross-legged on a mossy patch of the bog, where the sound of water seemed to have the right qualities.

                      #3336

                      “Who the fuck stuck all these disgusting patches all over me?” Lisa shouted when she noticed them, and thus promptly forgot her dream. “Why have you gone so red in the face, Jack?”
                      In an attempt to deflect the attention from himself, he countered: “Why were you standing on the table?”
                      Lisa rose to the bait and replied that she was assessing the possibility of hanging the new map mannequin, the one that wouldn’t stand up on her own, from the beams on the kitchen ceiling.
                      “I feel inspired to continue the map collage, now that I have an idea for where to put her when she’s finished.”
                      Jack yawned, somewhat rudely.
                      Lisa angrily pulled another patch off her left buttock. “You better be wondering what’s in your dinner later, Jack.” she said ominously.

                      #3296

                      “Mission’s a success, your island awaits”

                      This time, the Management’s message seemed strangely clear, and Irina didn’t care to decipher it, in case it meant something else completely. The idea of the island was all she needed at the time.

                      “A simple Congratulations! wouldn’t have hurt them”, she was a bit disappointed, after all the efforts, but for now, an illegally staffed island was as good as that.

                      “Mr R, pack our things, we are retiring!”
                      “Very well Madam. Meaning no disrespect Madam, but is retirement an appropriate word Madam?”
                      She quizzically raised her eyebrow, to which, right on cue, the robot continued
                      “Madam is much too young to retire.”
                      She sighed, affecting a pose. “Well, I know. But this 2222 isn’t really all the fuss they’re making about it”
                      “I would agree with Madam, Madam always has the most astute perception.”
                      “Well, thank you Mr R.” she giggled happily.

                      She sniffed suspiciously at the air around “Did you have ambergris for dinner Mr R?”

                      #3293

                      The whales’ dance on the dark bluish background lit by the tiniest reflection on floating seahorses and other sea creatures, made the scenery look like an eerie night skyline, full of moving stars.
                      The added feeling of weightlessness was empowering, and soon, the three queens passed side glances, barely interested by the words of wisdom of the hologram, and catching each other’s mind, almost asked their question at the same time.

                      Terry was the quickest this time, “Please, please, can you do a rendition of the Name Game with your disco ball lights, we’re all dying to do a dance! Please?”

                      Interestingly, the Hologram didn’t show any hesitation as it started to sing, and the three queens were all glowing as they adjusted their wigs, fins and other appendages.

                      The Name Game
                      Terry!
                      Terry, Terry bo Berry Bonana fanna fo Ferry
                      Fee fy mo Merry, Terry!
                      Sadie! Sadie, Sadie bo Badie Bonana fanna fo Fadie
                      Fee fy mo Madie, Sadie!
                      Come on everybody!
                      I say now let’s play a game
                      I betcha I can make a rhyme
                      Out of anybody’s name …

                      The lights were on, and the dresses glittered, Terry in the spur of the moment added kelp extensions to her wig to match the sardine tones of her suit, while Sadie’s only concession to fashion was a little glowing golden jellyfish that seemed to match her bob cut, and made for a funny pulsating hat.

                      Adamus was on, and unstoppable

                      The first letter of the name,
                      I treat it like it wasn’t there
                      But a B or an F, or an M will appear
                      And then I say Bo add a B
                      Then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a fo
                      And then I say the name again
                      With an F very plain and a fee fy and a mo
                      And then I say the name again
                      With an M this time
                      And there isn’t any name that I can’t rhyme.

                      A chorus of dolphins tried to join, having Consuela burst hysterically into peals of unstoppable laughter.

                      Consuela!
                      Consuela, Consuela bo Bonsuela Bonana fanna fo Fonsuela
                      Fee fy mo Monsuela, Consuela!
                      But if the first two letters are ever the same,
                      I drop them both and say the name
                      Like Bob, Bob drop the Bs Bo ob
                      For Fred, Fred drop the Fs Fo red
                      For Mary, Mary drop the Ms Mo ary
                      That’s the only rule that is contrary.

                      Maurana was shaking her head in seducing moves, pretending not to die of envy of the others, and expecting her turn.
                      And the music went on…

                      Okay? Now say Bo: Bo
                      Now Belen without a B: Elen
                      Then Bonana fanna fo: bonana fanna fo
                      Then you say the name again with an F very plain: Felen
                      Then a fee fy and a mo: fee fy mo !
                      Then you say the name again with an M this time: Melen
                      And there isn’t any name that you can’t rhyme
                      Maurana! Maurana, Maurana bo Baurana Bonana fanna fo Faurana
                      Fee fy mo Aurana, Maurana!

                      And they continued with all sorts of names for quite a while, even some of the whales’ and dolphins’ who were obviously enjoying the interlude.

                      :fleuron:

                      “Did you get all that on video?” Maurana asked Sadie.
                      “Of course I did, the ezapper got it all. Linda Paul and the network won’t believe their eyes, it’s some heavy material! Even better than gold bars!” Sadie could barely believe what had just happened.

                      The whales seemed to have been so thrilled that after a moment of silence, a smaller one broke off the cycle, went to the huge crystal and took a heart shaped shard of it to offer them.

                      “I guess that’s their way of burning a DVD, what do you think?” Consuela was blissfully hopeless with technology, but could also have some moments of brilliance.

                      “We should go now” Sadie said looking up from the ezapper “it looks like some unidentified giant blue crab is coming at us, and we better let the whales handle it.”

                      “Are we going through that awful sewer again?” Maurana was starting to get green at the idea.

                      “I don’t think so, I had Sanso pick us up at the underwater cave thanks to Consuela surprise reconnaissance mission. He just arrived and he just texted me his location. It’s not far from here. He seems to have managed to herd a few octopi to carry us across. Always surprisingly resourceful this one, I might start to like him…”
                      Snapping from her emotions, she continued
                      “Time to say your adieus to 2222 ladies. Tonight, everyone’s a winner. We’re going to be famous.”

                      #3283

                      When Huhu arrived at his destination, Irina was sunbathing to the last rays of a big red gorgeous sunset that painted the waves in iridescent shades of purple.
                      At the same time, the sun’s course had already started a new day on the shores of New Zealand, where her sister was living, and she surely would be thrilled. Long had she waited for the 2222-2-22 marker.
                      Here, in Hawaii, they would still be in 2222-2-21, for a few more hours.
                      Irina started to shiver. 22°C her watch read. As if she needed to be any more quirky about this date…

                      “Good boy!” she said to the parrot, taking the key it was carrying. Huhu tittered in contentment, cracking some of the pistachios she fed him distractedly.

                      She’d just received additional information from the Management. Elusive as usual, and leaving a great deal to interpretation, including the interdiction.

                      They’d promised to get her her dream island as a retirement plan. Some said it was the original land of the mermaids (who used to have as much feathers as Rio Carnival’s samba dancers), right off Italy’s Amalfi’s coast. Among its perks, it boasted to incorporate 8 staff, and a private grotto — that, if anything else than her fine waist line, would surely entice Sanso into other steamy booty calls.
                      She’d seen the pictures of the properties, her first thought though was that she needed to shoot the interior decorator. In short, it was almost her moral duty to get it, and change the decor. On the whole, she was convinced the island would do her good.

                      So, when she looked back at the previous instructions to see how good she’d done on her mission’s objectives, she shrugged a little. She’d understood instinctively right when it was delivered that it was a clever cipher, especially given the late date shift. So she had reinterpreted the actual commands, and leisurely waited for the travellers to appear, and get comfy. By now, she was certain they trusted her telepathic commands well enough, so that solved the trust conundrum.
                      Basically, she was a major proponent of her own interpretation of old Ho’oponopono rituals. Instead of the usual mantra “I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you.” hers was a bit more straightforward and was around the lines of “Green sickness to you. Peace be with you, and bugger off.
                      Said a few times with proper intonation and inner work, and it was know to her to alter dramatically any block or resistance into a great flow of pure unfettered energy. So she had adamant faith that all she needed to do to complete her mission was to focus on herself and solve the resistance within by letting go.

                      The last message was short.

                      22 the code * whale that * BO

                      It could only mean one thing. 22 was a clever cipher meaning conundrum as in a catch 22, but also an obvious reference to the temperature. So it could only mean one thing: tamper with the code on the 22nd, and send it on the way to the whales, with a bug on it.

                      “Mr R, please, fetch!”

                      The discrete, yet always present robot caught the key with grace, and on her careful instructions, proceeded to alter the code of the key.

                      Irina was enjoying herself immensely, and found it a pity nobody could witness her true genius. “The ones who’ll read that key later, well… they are in for such a wild goose chase!”
                      The second part of St Germain’s encoded hologram was now ripe with wonderful and bewildering information about blubbits and the magic kingdom of Peasland with obscure and arcane references of magic numbers like 57, that would have anybody sane turn mad as a hatter in no time. Hopefully the whales would be immune to the nonsense, but probably not humans.

                      Now was the final part of the plan.

                      “Mr R?”
                      “Madam?”
                      “I hope you are ready for this delicate reinsertion mission. Do you still have that octopus suit of yours ready?”
                      “Of course, Madam. Right away Madam.”

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